


Good-Night Kiss

by Moorishflower



Series: A Cold Academic Hell [28]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-27
Updated: 2011-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:18:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moorishflower/pseuds/Moorishflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lately, Gabriel has been asking some strange questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good-Night Kiss

Lately Gabriel has been asking strange questions. Not strange in and of themselves, but they seem strange coming from a man who had hesitated the first time Sam had reached for his hand in public. Sam doesn’t know what issues Gabriel has with intimacy, doesn’t know if he has them for a particular reason or if that’s just the way he grew up, but he knows that Gabriel is good in bed (even though he can’t offer his own testimony to the fact), and he knows that Gabriel is experienced, that he’s done things that would make Sam blush on a good day and maybe wince on a bad one. The thing is, though, that Gabriel is completely new to everything that has to do with being in a relationship. Holding hands, chaste kisses, smiles that aren’t invitations to fuck…all of those things are confusing to him, and there’s always a note of hesitance when Sam tries to initiate that sort of…of _close_ contact.

So they have a system in place. Gabriel doesn’t like to be startled with strangeness, and Sam doesn’t like it when Gabriel sulks, so they ask each other questions. “Can I take your shirt off,” Gabriel will ask when they’re kissing on the couch, and Sam will sigh and say “Yes,” and though he knows Gabriel isn’t used to this slowness, though he knows that Gabriel sometimes feels confused by Sam’s newness, his desire to not move forward just yet, Gabriel will never take it any further than that. They still haven’t moved past touches just underneath their clothing, and Sam knows it must be frustrating (God knows it is for him), but Gabriel doesn’t push.

Similarly, if they’re out at a restaurant for lunch on the weekend, Sam will lean across the table, hand hovering over Gabriel’s, and he’ll ask, “Can I hold your hand?” And Gabriel, after a moment, will nod, and their fingers will touch. Fifteen minutes later, their legs are touching under the table and Gabriel is smiling.

That’s how their questions work, how their _relationship_ works, at least so far.

Except…a few days ago, Gabriel had texted him during class (because even though they’re dating, Gabriel can’t always resist being an asshole), and the only thing that had saved him from Crowley’s wrath had been his own good standing in the class. Dean had laughed under his breath and called him something rude (Sam hadn’t heard it clearly, but he was ninety percent certain it had been something along the lines of “brown noser,” which is really just Dean’s way of expressing his jealousy of Sam, _really_ ). A quick check of his texts after class and revealed that Gabriel had sent him a question:

 _Is it okay if I touch your hair? – G_

“Who’s that from?” Dean had asked, and Sam had avoided answering as he sent a quick reply back: _Yes, always. – S_

“Do you have a new boyfriend? Girlfriend? Your _old_ boyfriend?”

“Even if I did,” Sam had said, “it still wouldn’t be any of your business.” That had ended _that_ conversation. Dean hadn’t mentioned it again, but Sam knows that the conversation is still on his mind.

Which isn’t helped by the fact that Gabriel’s just sent him another text. During class. _Again_.

Fortunately, Sam learns from his mistakes. His phone, instead of chirping loud enough for Crowley to hear, merely vibrates in his pocket. Dean, sitting directly next to him, hears it, or maybe feels it against his own leg, and he glances at Sam with raised eyebrows.

 _Boyfriend?_ he mouths, and Sam glares at him, and mouths back, _None of your business._ He flips his phone open, discreetly beneath his fold-out desk, and squints to read the text.

 _Day going okay? Hey, do you mind if I give you things? Nothing big. Candy maybe_

Sam snorts, and, quickly, before Crowley turns his vulture-eyed gaze towards him, types, _You already gave me earmuffs. Candy is way cheaper so sure._

Dean harasses him over it, but by the fourth text two days later he’s more intrigued than amused, and Sam feels like he’s going crazy. What is Gabriel doing? Gabriel doesn’t ask questions like these, he doesn’t send Sam texts in the middle of the day just to ask how he’s doing, and he definitely doesn’t invite Sam over for a romantic dinner at his place, which is precisely what the latest text says. _Romantic dinner. My place. 6:30 tonight._

“I’m going out,” Sam announces, and Dean looks up from his macaroni and cheese. There’s a smear of Velveeta on his bottom lip. Sometimes Sam is astounded by the fact that Dean managed to raise him from infancy practically by himself. On days like these he barely seems like he could tie his own shoes, let alone care for a baby. Sam laughs quietly, and Dean licks his lips.

“You tell whoever it is that they mess with you and I’ll kill them,” Dean says, so matter of fact and calm that Sam doesn’t even register the words for a few seconds. When he does, he turns his head away to hide his blush and says nothing.

“Sam? Aw Jesus, Sam, you know I’m just…”

“He makes me happy,” Sam says, faltering, slow. Dean trails off, leaving his sentence unfinished. He clears his throat.

“As long as you’re not just saying that.”

Sam smiles. He wishes that he were still ten years old, so he could lean across the table and give his brother a hug, and not have Dean mind it. Things are different now, though, so he doesn’t. He only grins at Dean until his brother snorts and looks back down at his macaroni and cheese. “Go on,” he says. “Get out of here. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That’s a short list.”

Dean waves him off, and, laughing, Sam grabs his keys and his wallet, and he heads out.

~

The dinner is, indeed, romantic. Candles, wine, the whole nine yards, and Sam laughs at first because Gabriel has made such an effort, and it’s not really _like_ Gabriel. Then Gabriel pulls his chair out for him, and kisses him at the corner of his mouth, and pours wine for him, and he’s…well, he’s _charmed_. They’re both wearing jeans and t-shirts, and Gabriel is barefoot. Sam can hear Castiel moving around in his bedroom.

It’s, quite honestly, the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for him. More romantic, even, than their first date.

They eat. They talk about small things, how was your day, would you like more wine, did you see that movie that was on last night? Sam eats until he’s full – something he doesn’t often have the chance to do – and drinks until everything seems light and _good_.

“Did you invite me over just to get me drunk?” he asks, and Gabriel grins.

“No. Although if I had, I’d consider it a wildly successful plan.”

Sam laughs without really knowing what he’s laughing at, and Gabriel collects their dishes and brings them to the kitchen sink. Sam gets slowly to his feet, intending to help, but Gabriel catches his arm. The dishes have already been set down.

“I’ll drive you home,” Gabriel says, and Sam wraps his arms around him, traps him against his chest and buries his mouth and nose in Gabriel’s hair. Burnt sugar and wine. Sam inhales deeply, and Gabriel laughs.

“You’ve definitely had enough. Come on, let’s get you…”

“Don’t wanna go,” Sam mumbles. He’s not drunk, not really, but he feels strange and happy and weightless. He doesn’t want to leave. “Can I stay here with you?”

Gabriel stills. His arms come up, slowly, around Sam’s waist. They hover there, like he’s afraid to touch. “You’re a little drunk. Maybe…”

“No, no. That’s not it. I mean, it _is_ it, but…” Sam shakes his head, clinging tighter to Gabriel. He’s messing all of this up. He doesn’t want Gabriel to get the wrong impression, that Sam doesn’t _want_ him. Or, alternatively, that Sam feels ready to take the next step. “I just…wanna hold you, y’know? And cuddle. S’that okay? Cuddling?”

Gabriel gently unwinds Sam’s arms from around his torso, taking Sam’s hand and leading him out of the kitchen. Sam sees Castiel poke his head out of his bedroom, a rumpled head with startlingly blue eyes that disappears just as quick as it showed. He wonders if he looks all that drunk. He doesn’t _feel_ drunk. Maybe a little bit tired. Or a lot tired. “Of course that’s okay,” Gabriel is saying, and they’re at the top of the stairs. Sam glances down at his feet, amazed at what seems, to him, a spontaneous act of teleportation.

“We can cuddle?” he asks hopefully, as Gabriel guides him through the upstairs lounge and helps him climb another set of stairs – pulled down from the ceiling like an accordion – into another room, much smaller, with rugs and pillows strewn all about, and a bed that’s round and low like a bowl next to the single, circular window on the far wall.

“Wow,” Sam murmurs. He toes off his shoes, leaving his socks on as Gabriel pulls him towards the bed.

“I know, right? I tried to get Castiel to buy one too, but he preferred the more ordinary bed. His loss.”

Gabriel helps him lower himself down into the mess of pillows and blankets, and Sam burrows into the warmth and the smell of Gabriel, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as the man strips off his shirt and jeans, then retrieves a pair of pajama bottoms from a dresser hidden behind yet another pile of pillows. “You have a lot of pillows,” Sam mumbles. Gabriel shrugs, then drops down onto the bed next to him.

“I like to live in comfort.”

“Mm.”

Sam can feel Gabriel’s breath ruffling his hair. He tries to keep his eyes open, but it’s difficult. Gabriel’s face hovers close, and Sam blinks.

“Can I ask you something?”

Sam nods, dumb with his desire for sleep, with his sudden desire for Gabriel’s closeness. “Uh?”

“Can I kiss you goodnight?”

Smiling, Sam says, “Yes, of course.” And then, as Gabriel leans close, as their lips touch, he whispers, “Always,” and lets sleep claim him.


End file.
